


This is the moment

by ajuliea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Newly Human Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:19:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8758168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajuliea/pseuds/ajuliea
Summary: Dean is incensed that Cas has risked his life so carelessly now that he's human.  Because if anything were to happen to Cas...





	

Dean is furious. Livid. He hasn’t felt so angry in…  “It's just that you're human now, Cas! You can't just…” 

“I know!” Cas interrupts, just as angry. “I know. After a millennia of that not being the case, I forgot. Would that be a ‘fair’ explanation for you?” Cas does the air quotes, but the fight leaves him. It leaves both of them, and Dean is suddenly aware of how close they are standing, how intense their eye contact is, until Cas uncharacteristically breaks it. His voice is ragged now as he continues. “Would that be ‘acceptable’ to you?” He looks back at Dean again and Dean recognizes something he’s never seen in those blue eyes before: fear.

“Hey,” he takes advantage of their proximity now, grabbing Cas by both shoulders, then moving one hand up to Cas’ face, ostensibly to direct it into the light to better see where the blood is falling from. “Hey,” he repeats gently, examining what looks to be a surface wound. He’s drawn to the turbulent ocean of Cas’s eyes again. He swallows. “Looks like we got lucky. Turns out you have a lot better aim than that demon.”

Castiel huffs out a breath. “I should hope so, after a millennia of being a soldier.” Castiel is still winded from the fight and earnest, but Dean can hear the attitude underneath and sighs in relief, smirking a bit. 

“Yeah, okay, jackass. Just don’t forget to wait for backup next time. I don’t want to find you with a bigger hole in your face than we can fix.” His hand strokes the side of Castiel’s face. He tells himself he’s wiping away the blood.

“Yes, I’m sorry that I might inconvenience you with a larger facial injury,” Cas says, back to form, but with warmth in his tone rather than angelic iciness. He reaches up to Dean’s face, mirroring Dean’s hand, and Dean leans into it for a moment, wondering if he’s bleeding too.

Dean’s breathing shudders and he closes his eyes for a moment, allowing this. “That’s not what I meant, Cas. I mean, I can’t.. What would I… I mean, I can’t do this without you, man.”

“Dean?” Cas asks, and when Dean opens his eyes, sure enough, Cas’s head has dipped to the side, his eyebrows furrowing quizzically. He licks his lips awaiting Dean’s response and Dean feels his heart lodge in his throat, can actually feel his pupils dilate as they focus intently on Cas’s lips, his widening eyes, his Adam’s apple. Dean hears his own heartbeat.

He remembers this feeling. It’s been years, decades even, but he remembers this nervous anticipation. Her name was Robin. He couldn’t believe his luck back then. There’ve been others since her though. A lot. Maybe some whose names he couldn’t even remember.

“You’re important, Cas.” Dean says brusquely. He can hear how strained he sounds, despite the understatement he’s just uttered. Even so, it’s both an easy and impossibly difficult thing to have admitted out loud, and he closes his eyes again to avoid Cas’ scrutiny. As if by itself though, his hand travels down Cas’ face, feels the day’s growth of stubble, curves at his jaw, his thumb resting at the corner of Castiel’s mouth, his lips. Then he can feel Cas trying to back away from him and, instinctively, he grips tighter on Cas’s shoulder, his eyes flying open.

“Not anymore,” Cas bites out bitterly, but before he can go down that road too far, Dean leans back in, pulls Cas in for a hug, a tight one. His mind flashes back to Purgatory, how he’d gripped Cas tight back then, too. And how Cas was just as reticent then. The memory makes Dean feel desperate, reckless. He clutches tighter, resolute now, refusing to lose Cas again.

“I mean to me, angel,” he whispers hoarsely into Cas’s ear. He nervously notes Cas’s stillness before feeling arms tightly encircle him. He relaxes his arms a bit, feeling Cas’s own tight hold. “I mean you’re important to me,” he finishes. The words seem to echo in the room and at first Dean resents his own admission, knowing that in some ways, at least to him, it changes things. He hadn’t been expecting to take this gamble today, although if he were being honest, he’d have to acknowledge its inevitability. He holds his breath, waiting for Castiel’s reaction.

Then he feels Cas rest his forehead against his neck, relishes in the skin-on-skin contact, raises his own hands to gently finger along the nape of Cas’s neck, enter into his thick, dark hair, scratch at his scalp. He inhales deeply the familiar scent of his best friend, somewhat cinnamon tinted, but this time with the added metallic smell of blood.

Castiel pulls back again, though not as far, still holding on to Dean, still in Dean’s arms. “But Dean, I’m not an angel anymore.” There is a sadness in Cas’s eyes that Dean feels an urgent need to eradicate. He can feel Cas’s arms start to drop, can feel Cas’s expectation that Dean drop his as well. Cas turns his head, eyes cast to the floor, intent on turning his body out of Dean’s embrace. Dean can see the out, but suddenly adamantly battles against it. He hustles Cas closer and takes one hand to Cas’s chin to turn his eyes back to his face.

“Cas, don’t you get it?” Okay, so he’s doing this. Dean feels almost dizzy. “You’ll always be my angel. And I don’t mean, ‘Once an angel always an angel, faith and grace and wings and all your brothers and sisters in heaven,’ although mark my words, Cas, I’m not gonna stop until I get all that back for you.” Cas is stock still again, looking at Dean with a changing expression as he digests Dean’s words, from wary apprehension to something approaching tenderness.

Dean continues, buoyed by Cas’s expression, not even knowing what he’s saying, but hoping he can land his meaning without humiliating himself or turning this into too much of one of those moments he can’t stand. “I mean, Cas, I mean there’s nobody else I need as much as you and Sam.” Cas’s hands drop to Dean’s waist, his eyes narrowing to Dean’s lips, his breathing becoming labored. He takes a step forward, but they’re already standing so close, he knocks Dean a step back. Dean keeps talking, one hand still on the back of Castiel’s neck, the other now steadying himself on Cas’s forearm, as Cas continues to dance him backwards.

“I mean when you’re around, I don’t want you to leave, and when you’re gone, I’m kind of a wreck until you’re back. I’m not okay until you’re with me again.” Dean stumbles, but Castiel’s got him, which is no surprise to Dean, and they keep moving until Dean’s back hits the cement wall of the warehouse they’re doing this in. Both men are smiling hesitantly now. There’s no turning backwards; there’s no pretending. “I mean, Cas, you’re family. I mean, Cas, you’re more than that. You’re everything.”

So much for not humiliating himself, Dean thinks. Although maybe he hasn’t, because now Cas is kissing him and Dean realizes he wasn’t exaggerating in the least. Dean’s hands cruise up to cup his angel’s cheekbones. Cas’s hands at his hips inch up under his shirt and Dean hopes nonsensically that he’ll leave handprints, branding him again as when he’d pulled Dean out of hell.

The warehouse is quiet for a moment when they stop, foreheads leaning against each other, breath coming out in pleasant pants, thumbs stroking each other’s skin.

“Okay Dean,” Castiel says, his voice no longer bitter or sad, but lazily confident. “I accept your apology.” He nuzzles closer to Dean, who can’t help but chuckle at Cas’s response.

“Alright, angel, don’t get cocky,” he replies. Castiel raises his head from the crook of Dean’s neck to give him a fixed look, eyebrow raised, and Dean laughs out loud. “Ok, if this is how it’s gonna be, we should probably head back to the bunker.”

Dean leads his best friend, his everything, out of the warehouse to the Impala, hand on his back, reveling in the small touch, in the drastic but welcome life change that had just unfolded, unable to keep the wide grin off his face, finding it growing even wider when Castiel looks back at him with a new look on his own face: a relaxed adoration, a complete loving trust. For the first time in Dean’s memory, he is entirely content and excited about what the future holds.


End file.
